You're My Brother
by Outsiders Obsessor
Summary: "Pumbaa, you're not my best friend," Timon says into the cool night air. This sentence makes the warthog bolt upright in their bed of leaves. "What?" Pumbaa asks in disappointment. "But, Timon, I thought…" he starts off before Timon interrupts him. "You're not my friend; you're my brother." Strong friendship between Timon and Pumbaa. Not slash.


**You're My Brother**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own either of these amazing characters; that awesome right belongs to Disney.**

The jungle begins to awake early one morning. The birds are singing, grubs are making various noises, and two best friends are starting to wake up. Rain from last night's downpour drips softly from the trees and bushes, giving the usually hot jungle a rather cool atmosphere this morning. A meerkat starts the morning by rolling off of his friend and cracking his back.

"Pumbaa," the meerkat starts to say while still cracking his back.

The only response heard from the warthog is a snore as he continues to sleep.

"Pumbaa, wake up, buddy," he tries again, softly shaking the warthog's front hoof.

"Dream of bedbugs tonight," Pumbaa mumbles as he rolls over in his slumber.

"Oi! Why do we have to go through this _every_ morning?" Timon asks into the silence, shaking his head in slight disbelief.

Yes, the meerkat and warthog have been living in the jungle for about six months now, and every day starts the same. Timon has to take drastic measures in order to wake Pumbaa up. It's become their regular routine by now. Well, the two of them wouldn't want to live any other way. Hakuna Matata is all theirs and no one would interrupt their lifestyle.

"Pumbaa, up and at 'em," Timon loudly says before elbowing Pumbaa in the stomach.

This gets the warthog up. Pumbaa rolls over to where he's facing Timon before opening his eyes.

"Morning, Timon," Pumbaa smiles as a yawn escapes his lips.

"Good morning, buddy. What do ya say we go and rustle up some grubs?" Timon returns, grinning at his suggestion.

"Sounds like a plan, Timon," Pumbaa happily says as he stands up.

Without any hesitation, Timon hops up on Pumbaa's back, ready to start their new day.

"In the jungle, the mighty jungle," Timon starts to sing as the two of them start to rustle up some grubs for breakfast.

"The lion sleeps tonight!" Pumbaa joins in as he lifts a log for Timon.

Many grubs of all types of colors run out from under the particular log, so Timon eagerly grabs up as many as he can. Pumbaa softly tosses the log over where he can get his fill of bugs as well.

"Ah, the slimy ones are just the best!" Pumbaa remarks as he slurps some down after disposing of the log.

"Pumbaa, my old pal, usually I agree with you, but the crunchy ones make the meal," Timon interjects as he bites into a crunchy blue grub.

"Yeah, those are my second favorites," Pumbaa says, not wanting to start another war over which type of grub is better.

Those types of fights seem to happen at least once a week.

"Happy Best Friends Day, Pumbaa!" Timon smiles, walking over to his porcine pal.

"Timon, you remembered!" Pumbaa happily says, grinning from tusk to tusk.

"Of course, Pumbaa. It's been six months since we met in that grass," the meerkat replies, knowing it makes Pumbaa happy he remembered the date of their first encounter.

Dates don't come to Timon very easily. Pumbaa, on the other hand, can remember dates like nobody's business.

"And every day after has been an adventure. Happy Best Friends Day to you, too, Timon!" Pumbaa remarks, thinking of all of their past adventures and schemes.

"Well, care to take a stroll down Memory Lane?" Timon asks, brushing a piece of his red hair out of his eyes.

"Of course I would, buddy!" Pumbaa all but yells, getting excited about what Timon has planned for today.

The first stop Pumbaa and Timon make on their journey down Memory Lane is that of the shore they washed up on after they had to run for their lives in the gorge. The yearly wildebeest migration gets on almost every animal's nerves. Well, except the predators that need the meat for their families.

"Close your eyes, Pumbaa," Timon instructs as they near the very spot they washed up on.

"They're shut up tight, Timon," Pumbaa assures, wondering what the big surprise is anyway.

Timon starts to unveil his surprise, checking behind him to make sure Pumbaa's amber eyes are still closed. Seeing the warthog is still obeying the earlier command, Timon finally gets his surprise into full view.

"All right, buddy. Open up your eyes," Timon suddenly says as he walks over to stand beside Pumbaa.

What Pumbaa sees takes his breath away. There, standing in front of him is an exact replica of their home behind Pride Rock that they lived in first, along with all of the other "dream homes" he and Timon had checked out before finding the oasis paradise they live in now.

"You made all of this, Timon?" Pumbaa asks with tears in his eyes.

"Yep! From memory, Pumbaa. From crazy, obsessive memory," Timon laughs before noticing the tears in Pumbaa's eyes. "What's wrong, buddy? Did I upset ya or something?" he asks, not sure of why Pumbaa is crying.

"No, Timon. It's just so beautiful. I- I- I've never had a friend like you," Pumbaa admits, pulling Timon in for a hug. "In fact, I've never had a friend other than you," he softly says, which sets Timon off into tears, too.

"Yeah, Pumbaa. I, I have something to tell you, buddy," Timon speaks up as tears roll down his cheeks as well, thinking about his own past.

"What did you want to tell me, Timon?" the warthog inquires, looking over at Timon, beginning to wipe tears from his tusks and red face.

"Um, uh," Timon starts to say, not sure of how to put this into words for his best friend.

 _I can't do this. How would Pumbaa react? Oh, forget it. I can't tell him._

"Uh, last one to the swimming pool is a stinkbug!" Timon shouts out, deciding not to tell Pumbaa the truth right now.

He doesn't know how he would word something like this.

Later that night, after many activities, such as swimming, cricket crunching, swinging on vines, bungee jumping, and looking at the stars, Timon and Pumbaa retire to their part of the oasis to go to sleep for the night. Pumbaa climbs in first, as usual, lying on his back where Timon can climb up not too long after. This night, however, Timon hesitates for a moment.

"Timon, is something wrong?" Pumbaa asks in concern, lifting his head up to gaze at Timon.

"Nah. I'm okay. Just a little tired is all," Timon answers, feigning a yawn before climbing up Pumbaa's stomach to lie in the leaf bed as well.

"Okay. You know you can tell me anything, right, Timon?" Pumbaa reminds, starting to close his eyes to prepare for sleep.

"I know, buddy. Well, goodnight, Pumbaa," Timon says as his own eyes begin to droop.

"Sleep tight," Pumbaa grins, his own eyes feeling heavy as well.

"Dream of bedbugs tonight," Timon drowsily continues.

"Timon, I'm glad you're my best friend," Pumbaa sleepily murmurs to the meerkat.

Timon simply sits there in silence for a moment before he _finally_ decides on how to word his thoughts from earlier.

"Pumbaa, you're not my best friend," Timon says into the cool night air.

This sentence makes the warthog bolt upright in their bed of leaves.

"What?" Pumbaa asks in disappointment. "But, Timon, I thought…" he starts off before Timon interrupts him.

"You're not my friend; you're my brother. Pumbaa, I've never had someone in my life I can rely on as much as I can with you. If that's not what a brother is, then I don't know what is," Timon admits to Pumbaa, trying his hardest not to cry.

"Aw, Timon!" Pumbaa happily says with a sob, not being able to contain his tears like Timon. "You're my brother, too," Pumbaa responds, wrapping Timon in a hug for the second time that day.

"I'm glad you took that so well, buddy. I thought it might make our friendship a little awkward if I told you," Timon softly chuckles.

"Don't worry, Timon. My mother used to say _a brother may not be a friend, but a friend will always be a brother,"_ Pumbaa says, assuaging Timon's mind.

"Wow. That's deep. Must be where you get it from," Timon smiles as he settles on his back.

"Yeah. She was a great mom. I'll tell you more about her one day," Pumbaa softly tells the meerkat as both of their eyelids start to droop once more.

"Okay. Goodnight, Pumbaa," Timon yawns, curling into a ball on Pumbaa's stomach.

"Goodnight, brother," Pumbaa grins, his mother's words echoing in his mind.

The calm, quiet, night air is broken by Pumbaa's voice a few minutes later.

"Timon?"

"Yeah, Pumbaa?"

"Am I the older or younger brother?" the warthog asks, wondering where Timon thinks he fits in.

"The older brother. You're always giving me advice and keeping me out of trouble. Ya happy now? Go to sleep," Timon smiles while keeping his eyes closed.

"Thanks, Timon. See you in the morning, little brother," Pumbaa smirks.

"Oi. You're not planning on calling me that every day, are you?" the meerkat wonders aloud.

However, he doesn't get a response. Pumbaa's already fast asleep.

"Oh, well. Hakuna Matata," Timon sleepily whispers.

Hakuna Matata indeed.

 **Author's Note: And there it was! I hope everyone enjoyed this one-shot; I had a lot of fun watching it. I recently have been re-watching old episodes of Timon and Pumbaa the show along with Lion King 1 ½ for probably the two-hundredth time. :) This idea came to me last night at my grandparents' house while watching a movie. Yeah, I just love the friendship Timon and Pumbaa have! Hope everyone enjoyed, and please leave a review with what you thought. (I always appreciate those.) If you liked this, check out my Lion King Ice Age crossovers! I think everyone who read this will enjoy those. Thanks for your support, awesome readers. Oh, and Pumbaa's quote is one from Benjamin Franklin I found in my World History book.**


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